


There's always hope

by Naomii66



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Newt is OC's brother, Nick alive, Romance, Smut, first smut, reader POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 18:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2783930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naomii66/pseuds/Naomii66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho discovers there's no way out the Maze - he feels disappointment, anger and pain. His girlfriend (the reader) tries to cheer him up. </p><p>Another oneshot I wrote for my friend, can be read without my other oneshot, though it would be the best to read them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's always hope

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So since my other work was somewhat popular (mainly on my fanfiction.net profile) I decided to write something else so here it is! This is my first time ever to write actual smut and not just parts of it so I'm a little bit nervous, hehe :D I hope you'll enjoy it, anyways, and please, do leave some comments!

"So, how did that goat exactly got there?" Nick asked in an 'I'm so done with this shit I can't get angry anymore' tone, his gaze never leaving the spot high on the tree. I couldn't help but do the same.

There was a goat on one of the top branches, around twelve foot above the ground.

A bloody goat.

He seemed to be much calmer than Nick was since while the vein on our leader's temple pulsated dangerously, the goat chewed on the leaves leisurely.

"Hilarious," I snorted with a wicked grin on my lips and my hands on my hips. Nick gave me a sharp look. "I mean it's terrible. What the heck is wrong with you, boys?"

Dave, one of the Slicers, and Fred, who was the newest Greenie, looked at me with wide eyes.

"It wasn't our fault!" Dave retorted, blushing equally with desperation, anger and embarrassment.

"Yeah!" Fred agreed, his afro-braids bounced by the force of his nods. "It went nuts and… Climbed up."

"'Climbed up'? What, like a shuckin' spider?" Nick growled and knuckled both boys on the nose painfully. "Ya slintheads!"

"Ow!" Dave winced, stroking his aching nose, and then turned to smack Fred on the neck, making the little boy squeal. "You were supposed to watch it!"

"No! You were supposed to watch!"

"No, you were!"

"No, you were!"

"Nick, sis'!" Newt's voice rang from the distance. He was standing close to the Map Room with a serious and hard look on his face which turned my smile around. Something was wrong. "Could you spare me a minute?"

Nick nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to the boys. "Look, I don't give a shuck how you do it but _get that shucking goat down_!"

With that being said he turned heels and rushed toward Newt.

I bit my lower lip in perplexity and patted both Gladers on the back. "Ya better do what he said." Before they would've had a chance to resist I jogged after Nick. I caught up with him right outside the Map Room with Alby. A bright, relieved smile made its way to my face as I laid my eyes on Minho, my boyfriend – his handsome face was covered with sweet and dirt and he was panting heavily but he was alright. It was comforting. Since I didn't see him since yesterday night (well, technically we were sleeping together but he didn't wake me up in the morning when he left) I was expecting, I don't know, a hug, a smile, a handshake, _something_. I got none. He just stood there with a severe and rigid look, his arms crossed in front of his chest, bringing his strong, muscled arms into prominence. His steady, unsmiling being put a frown on my face. What happened?

"What's the problem?" Nick asked. Alby looked at Newt, who gestured toward the concrete building with a nod of his head.

"We should probably go inside," Minho said, his voice emotionless and cold. He was starting to freak me out bugging much.

When I stepped closer ready to follow Minho and Newt, Alby put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"You should stay here," he explained, not caring about my expression going stiff with irritation. "Until we know what's goin' on the less knowin', the better. This is not up to discussion."

"C'mon, Alby!" I stamped. "Ya know they gonna tell me, anyway!"

"If you'll get to know it anyway you might as well stay here," Nick smiled humorlessly as he passed by me before Alby closed the thick door behind them.

"I hate these guys," I mumbled as I turned my back to the building and kicked a pebble away.

# # #

 _20:1 favor to the goat_ , I thought as I sat on the grass with my back to the concrete walls. Dave and Fred were still trying to get that lovin' goat down with no visible advancement. To be honest, I was kind of starting to root for the goat when suddenly the door opened and Nick stepped out followed by Alby, their faces a strange mixture of emotions I couldn't quite read. Alby gave me a one short, simple glance before thundering farther to the Homestead, murmuring something amongst them. The next was Newt. Worried wrinkles brewed his forehead as he pouted his lips to the side with his arms crossed.

"You can go inside. Minho will tell you everything." His voice was low and emasculated as he spoke, making me even more worried than I already was. When I passed by him he gave me a weak smile.

When I entered and closed the door, Minho was standing with his back to me. Although I couldn't see his face, the way his back-muscles and biceps' tensed under the fabric of his button-up blue shirt as he leaned over the table gave me a hint about how strained he was.

"Hey," I spoke softly with a woozy smile and stepped closer to hug him from behind, wrapping my arms around his waist. He always did the same with me though he never warned me first, just, like, sneaked behind me and hug-attacked. I guess he secretly enjoyed making me jump in fright. "Did ya know goats can climb trees?"

"…No."

"Too bad ya can't say the same about Dave and Fred," I chuckled, recalling how the last fell on Dave. Other times Minho would've smirked and asked for details, then we would bet on who's going to end up at the Med-Jacks, but not now.

No, he was stiff and uptight. Even the movement as he placed one of his hands on my arm was numbed, mechanical.

"There's no hope, love," he said quietly. I remained silent for a minute, waiting for him to continue but he never did. He used my nickname which he rarely did outside our room. He wasn't a nicknaming type like Newt which meant that he was serious.

"They may make it," I said finally. "Ya know, maybe Dace can dangle a carrot before that bloody goat or whatever it finds tasty…"

My weak attempt to lighten up his mood failed brutally. It didn't make him smile – it made him turn around with a bugging no-laughing-matter face. My heart clumped heavily in worry.

"There is no exit in the Maze." His voice and features were equally enfolded in the cloak of hopeless stoniness.

His words squeezed my chest like a cruel, vicious hand without my brain actually understanding their meaning. _What?_

"H-how do ya mean there's no exit?" I asked with my eyebrows knotted together in despair, my voice high and trembling.

Minho sighed from deep within his chest and took my hands in his, squeezing it gently. He didn't look at me, though, his gaze jumped from one corner to the other, not sure how he should say what he had to. "I've run to the very end of eighth section, the last one and it was the same: a giant shucking solid wall. No door. No holes. Not even a simple crack. We're _trapped_."

I couldn't believe my ears. Was it real? Was it really happening? We were fated to live inside these bloody walls til the end of our miserable lives?

 _Sadness, disappointment, sorrow._ We'll never get out.

 _Pain, anger, vindictiveness._ How could've they done this to us?! What was the point of the whole maze if there was no way out? The might've as well just put us in a simple concrete-stone cage.

 _Fear, anxiety, perplexity._ What will the other Gladers say?

Pain got all over me as I looked into Minho's eyes. They were full of rage and failure.

"What did Nick say?" I asked, choosing this question out of dozens running up and down my head.

"We can't tell the others. They can't…"

"…lose hope," I finished his sentence. He nodded. I understood the reasons – the only thing keeping all those boys alive, working and laughing and joking was the hope that the Runners will find a way out someday and we're all be free. Had we taken that one single hope from them, more than half the Gladers would've fall into depression. That was a risk we just couldn't take. "And what about _your_ hope?"

Minho looked me straight in the eye before he let his gaze wander over our entwined hands. "I don't know what to think."

I nodded reassuringly, as a ghost of a sad smile appeared on my lips. "Yeah. Me neither."

"We'll keep running. Can't let the possibility of a door opening flew," he continued."

"Yeah, I get that."

His half-emotionless face slowly turned into downright frustration and anger. I did not know if he was angry at the Creators, himself or life in itself. "More than a year and a half – a year and a half! – spent risking our shucking lives for _nothing_!" he hissed through gritted teeth as anger boiled up inside him till the point he tore his hands away from me and swept away the maps placed on the table in soldierly piles with an angry growl. The swallow papers floated in the air with the lazy elegancy of swans before they landed on the floor.

I bloody hated when Minho wasn't his normal, cheery, sarcastic self whom sometimes I could've strangle with a pillow. When I wrapped my arms around him again it was only half unselfish – I needed his closeness, his touches, his kisses. I wanted him because he seemed to be the one thing able to calm me, the only reason I didn't start to panic and scream and cry. He was the last breath keeping me alive in the ocean of misery and sorrow and I desperately craved to have him as close as possible.

I leaned in to kiss him but he was the one who actually started the kiss. It was sweet, passionate and meaningful, a conversation without words.

Unlike the kiss, the movement of our hands were hurried and needy. I tangled my fingers in his sweaty hair while he stroked my sides firmly, his calloused fingers sliding up underneath my shirt. His attention slowly moved to my jaw, placing wet kisses down and back up my neck until he reached that sweet spot under my ear and he nipped at it teasingly. I let out a shaky breath as a response. He wasn't fully satisfied with my quiet sound and bit down on the thin skin, earning a louder moan this time. It seemed to delight him since I felt him grin against me and also encourage him further as he grabbed my thighs and lifted me up to sat me atop the table.

"Have the other Runners come back yet?" I asked, breathing heavily as Minho kept sucking on my neck. He was making a hickey and I was sure an easily seen one.

"Not all of 'em," he murmured, placing a dove-like, gentle kiss on the bruise he former before he righted himself up. Minho looked into my eyes softly, stroking comforting circles on my exposed hipbones with his thumbs. "Are you afraid of being seen?"

"I just don't want to be interrupted," I smiled dizzily, wrapping my arms around his neck and urging him closer. He flattened himself against me, standing between my legs. A satisfied purr escaped my lips as he nuzzled his strong chest against my breasts. The bulge in his pants pressed against my crouch, sending an excited shiver along my spine.

"If anyone dares to come in I'll personally kill them," he stated. True, there was a handful of times when someone'd walk in on us, accidentally or intentionally, and Minho was always _furious_ though he never hurt anyone. Seriously, I mean.

"The maps'll get messy."

"Mmhm."

"Shouldn't we…"

"Shut it."

In fact I could care less about the maps and Minho seemed to hold pure disgust and wrath against them. It was one of those times Minho decided not to torment me like he usually did with his cunning hand touching and stroking and grabbing me everywhere but where I wanted him most. His soft lips hovering over my skin – on my neck, chest, thighs – ever so tenderly but never actually kissing me. Usually he enjoyed it but not now.

No, now he was eager out of the pain of disappointment and he wasn't in the mood to play. I went with it happily and reached my hand toward his pants, stroking his member through the fabric, earning a pleasant growl from him. His lips crashed against mine and his tongue asked for entrance. I gave it to him willingly, letting him map me all the way inside and out. His hands tugged at the hem of my loose shirt so I crossed my arms, each hand grabbing the side, pulling it up and over my head. I didn't even throw it away yet when Minho bent down, kissing and sucking and gently nibbling on my nipple while he palmed my other breast, massaging it. My head went dumb for a moment and I enjoyed the sweet contrast of the coldness of the room and the wet hotness of Minho's mouth surrounding my nipple aching with lust.

We didn't have time for hugging and cuddling and sweet, coupling things – a Runner could've come in any time and see us, which was displeasing. This wasn't our first time, either, when we had to be tender – I wanted a somewhat rough sex, plain and simple and something slapping my bloody concerns right in the face with a rock.

"Shuck, Minho," I panted, hugging his head closer to my chest when he sneaked his other hand into my pants, rubbing my clit and folds through my panties.

"Yeah, that's what we're about to do," he smirked against me. I smirked back and using his tactic I trailed my free hand down his still clothed abdomen, reaching into his pants to grab his half-hard member. He grunted heavily, widening my smirk. I stroked him slowly until he hardened fully then I pulled my hand out making him groan in frustration and began to work on his buttons. His shirt followed mine in the corner, along with his my pants and underwear. He buckled out his belt and unzipped his jeans, tossing it down slightly, his shaft standing up and proud.

He tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling me in for a passionate, wet kiss. I moaned into his mouth when I felt one of his fingers entering me, pumping in and out for a few paces before adding another, his thumb circling on my clit. I didn't need too much preparation to be honest; after a few moments I was practically dripping. He pulled out his fingers to replace them with his cock, filling me in one long thrust.

"Shuck!", Minho moaned with his eyes shut tight in pure pleasure, enjoying as my walls clenched around him, trying to get used to the gripping feeling.

No more words were spoken as he slowly but steadily set up a pace, fast and hard and rough, not too much of any of the three, just like the way I wanted it. It was almost like a telepathic connection between us which has been forming since the day he carried me all the way out the Maze – we didn't hear each others thoughts but we knew what the other wanted. It was one hell of a benefit of love.

After the first, shallow strike of pain as he entered me it felt guiltily fantastic – it wasn't _just_ the way he moved inside me, hitting that special little spot every now and then. It wasn't _just_ physical pleasure but more like a mental one – the fact that _he_ was the one slamming in and out of me, _his_ breaths came like hot puffs as _he_ nuzzled his nose into the crook of my neck and _he_ moaned my name gave me much more satisfaction than any bodily joy ever could.

Little moans and gasps found their way out my mouth as the tension and pleasure just kept building and building and building inside me. My hips moved to their own accord, meeting every single buck of Minho's. The knot inside my stomach suddenly duplicated itself when Minho leaned in to suck on my neck and stroke my clit gently simultaneously.

"I shucking love you," Minho breathed, looking into my eyes deeply before kissing me lovingly but still passionately.

A kiss, a thrust at the right spot and I was done. Little dots and swirls swam before my eyes when I climaxed, grabbing Minho's shoulders so hard and tightly I was sure my nails broke skin. He didn't seem to mind it, as far as I could see through the white cloud of orgasm, as after a few thrust even faster and deeper than the others his whole body tensed. His back arched as he came inside me, eyes shut tight and lips forming a moan wordlessly.

Complete silence fell on the Map Room besides our heavy breaths as we tried to get ourselves together. Minho hugged me close to his body, his light fudge-colored skin glistening with sweat, his member still buried inside me.

My mind was ripped to pieces and I wasn't in any hurry to put it together but I had to as the door suddenly opened.

"Oh my GOD!" Newt growled loudly, frustrated and slightly disgusted, as he covered his eyes with one of his arms quickly. "Not _again_! Go to your room, for bloody shucking God's sake!"

And with that he left us, shutting the door behind him so hard it actually made an echo. Minho chuckled joyfully, his head resting on my shoulder as I stroked his hair. I felt nearly all my anxiety was blown away by the blessing power of love making – I was still sorta disappointed there was no way out yet but I found some hope. It was like a match glowing in a dark room: small and seemingly worthless but it was there and with a match you can light a true fire. And that was what we all needed – fire. If there was no way yet, there will be, the Gladers will make sure of it.

There _always_ was hope.

Well, for a round two, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> So, how was it? Any good? Should I write some more or leave it to others? Geez, I'm so unsure and nervous! :D


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